


when i'm without you

by LuciferCaelestis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Introspection, M/M, keith in his desert shack, obligatory 'it's killing me when you're away' fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 13:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13215087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferCaelestis/pseuds/LuciferCaelestis
Summary: It's been a year since Shiro's disappearance and Keith is trying to distract himself from thinking of Shiro. He fails.





	when i'm without you

**Author's Note:**

> i pushed myself to complete this by the end of this year, procrastinating on all the other stuff i should be doing. it's unbeta'd but i hope you enjoy it anyway. happy end-of-2017! may 2018 be kinder to us and give us more sheith.

The desert wind blew through Keith’s hair as he dismounted from his hoverbike. It had been a long day, visiting the caves again trying to find any new markings or even the source of the energy that’s been pulling at him for months.

He had deliberately kept himself busy today, in the hopes that if he was distracted enough, he wouldn’t start thinking of Shiro and break down in the middle of nowhere.

For the most part, he had succeeded, too focused on his tasks to think of anything else.

His clothes were dusty with debris after the explosions he’d set off to clear the entrance of the cave he’d visited today but he sat down on his couch-turned-bed without a care. It wasn’t like it could get any dirtier anyway.

He’d found a few new carvings. It was still of the same blue lion, littered on the cave walls. Not wasting any time, he’d gone straight into his routine, taking pictures, scribbling down some notes and marking the areas he’d just searched on his map, before leaving as quickly as he came, hoping no one had noticed the explosions.

He was getting closer and closer to the energy source, he could just feel it. The energy was constantly pulling at him, leading him to more caves, to new drawings and discoveries. Hours seemed to pass in seconds when he was lost in the energy’s thrall. The feeling ebbed and flowed, sometimes grabbing at him with a desperation that almost hurt, but mostly it just settled at the back of his head, like it had always been there.

_ Where are you _ , it called to him.  _ Come find me, come find me, come find me... _

In the wake of Shiro’s disappearance, of his subsequent expulsion from the Garrison, he’d felt like a kite whose string had been cut, cast adrift and lost without a purpose, or a steady presence to ground him. The mystery of the energy’s origins had given him something to do, a reason to still exist and keep on going. Sometimes, in his rare moments of reflection and self-awareness, he’s grateful for the energy pulling at him. It had made surviving easier. 

Even if he hasn’t had much human interaction for months, he still felt less alone with the steady hum of the energy nearby.

He took out today’s pictures from his bag where it sat under his old couch, protected from the reach of the wind. He ran his fingers over the papers as he studied the pattern and mentally compared it to the other markings he’d seen in other caves.

As he got up from his seat, he held up the picture, walking towards his evidence board, avoiding the table in his way with the ease of long practice. Side by side, there were barely any differences between the pictures he’d just taken and pictures of carvings he’d taken a few months ago. Studying them intently still yielded no results, he had no idea what any of these symbols were about other than that they spoke of a blue lion somewhere.

He’d pored over them for months now, trying to make sense of vague cave drawings and stories from locals when he managed to head into the only town around for miles, but it looked to be an exercise in futility.

His frustration over not understanding anything after months of work built up until finally, he exploded. “What does it all mean?!”

He tore down all the papers he’d put up in frustration, pictures and notes and maps, months of hard work now scattered all over the floor.

Keith leaned his head against the wall, hoping to find some stability before he took out his impatience on the rest of the house.

Breathing in and out deeply, he’d almost achieved the calm he’d sought when he caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye.

It was Shiro.

Shiro’s face, looking so proud and happy on a promotional poster that he’d nicked from Iverson’s office after he’d been assigned the Kerberos mission. He remembered teasing Shiro when he’d first been approached for the pictures, and Shiro’s blush and embarrassed laughter. 

He’d pinned it on the board the first night he came, because even though it hurt to see Shiro like that after everything that had happened, it would have hurt even more to  _ not _ have done it. 

The memories started to overcome him and Keith had to swallow down a sob. He’d been–No,  _ they’d _ been so very happy back then, and now, it felt like his life had fallen apart and all he could do was pick up the pieces. 

And seeing Shiro’s happy face, surrounded by the pile of work he’d been doing trying to distract himself, especially on this very day, a year since Shiro disappeared? It felt like a cosmic joke, and his life was the punchline.

More than anything, he missed Shiro's steadying presence, how Shiro just understood him like no one else did. If Shiro were here, he'd be talking to Keith calmly, bringing him down from his impatience. If Shiro were here, he'd provide an outlet for all the emotions Keith didn't understand, through a spar or a listening ear, or even just by keeping him company as they sat together in silence. He’d kill for a ‘patience yields focus’ as long as it was Shiro saying that to him, as long as it meant that Shiro was  _ around _ to say it, but Shiro wasn’t, and he had to accept that.

It was hard, missing Shiro, knowing that he’d never come back no matter how much Keith wished he would.

He stared blankly at the empty wall for a few moments before closing his eyes defeatedly. His eyes looked around the room listlessly until a hint of bright pink caught his attention.

Poking out from under the pile of papers were a pad of sticky notes, displaced from the box of Shiro’s things that he’d gotten from Shiro’s room when they’d announced  _ pilot error _ .

Keith laughed wetly, his mood lifting for the first time that day. 

Shiro had loved using post-it notes, buying them in every single colour whenever he ran out of them. They were usually spread all over his room like an explosion of colour in between his spacecraft model posters and reminders for deadlines of his work, because Shiro had been prone to taking on too much work and forgetting when they were due.

Leaning down, he grabbed them and fished around for a marker. It wasn’t what he was used to but they would serve his purpose today.

In a fit of sentimentality and hopeless longing, he wrote  _ ‘It’s killing me when you’re away’ _ , on Shiro’s leftover pack of sticky notes. It was a massive oversimplification of everything he’d held back from telling Shiro and everything he felt in the days after his death, but it felt  _ right _ , like it was supposed to be there.

He’d done this before at Shiro’s advice, writing down his feelings and tearing them apart, like burning something down to the ashes. He was going to do the same to these, and maybe that would be the first step to letting Shiro go.

His writing taunted him, a plain reminder of everything he’d lost and he was ready to finally let go and burn his feelings down, but at the last moment, he stopped. 

He stopped because he didn’t want to let Shiro go. He didn’t want to forget Shiro, even if it hurt to remember him now. Shiro had changed him, made him a better version of himself, how could he ever want to forget that, forget him?

His hand shook as he slowly approached his board and pinned it in place, next to the picture he’d taken earlier that day as a reminder.

It was too easy to forget, in his grief, that thinking of Shiro had brought more than just pain, once upon a time. Shiro had made him so very, very happy, and he didn’t want to forget that. Because Shiro deserved to be remembered that way, and Keith wanted to remember him as the best part of his life, not the overwhelming pain it was now.

His vision blurred with tears, but as he looked around the room, he could already imagine what Shiro would say at the mess he’d made of it, how he’d laugh and tell him that it looked no worse than Shiro’s room after a hectic week of finals once. How he’d touch Keith’s shoulder gently, and help him clean it up, that ‘all messes could be fixed, so stop being stubborn and just let me help you, Keith’.

He would clean it up eventually. He just felt like it should stay a mess for a while this time, like an acknowledgement that he was not okay, and that he didn’t have to be. That he was grieving, but he didn’t have to forget Shiro.

And the mess would eventually be cleaned up, and the papers and pictures restored to their original positions on his board, but the note would remain. And it looked  _ right _ , like it belonged there. A small piece of how he felt for Shiro, in the midst of the remains of his life now.

Maybe one day, he’d have the courage to write down all the feelings he’d kept to himself, and speak plainly from his heart. And maybe one day… he’d be okay.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm dying but happy new year and may we have more sheith in 2018. cheers!


End file.
